


First Day of School

by WritingMonkey



Series: OAUT High School AU [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, F/F, F/M, First Day of School, First Meetings, M/M, New Friends, New Town, no magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 09:00:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10941222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingMonkey/pseuds/WritingMonkey
Summary: Emma's first day of school at Storybook High in Maine is looking to be pretty average at first. But then, she meets Mary Margaret King and this sets off a chain reaction, bringing Emma into the culture of the high school, pitting her against the evil head cheerleader Regina and drawing the attention of a bad boy everyone warns her against.





	1. Emma Swan

As Emma pulls her car into an empty spot in the student parking lot at her new high school, she sighs. Another new school. At least until the group home she was staying at now decides that she’s too much of handful for their meager resources. Storybrooke’s Home for Children was definitely not the worst place Emma had stayed, but she was sure that at the first sign of trouble, the nuns who ran the place would pack her up and send her to the next home. She decided that she would try her best to stay in Storybrooke for at least the next year before she was sent off again. Transferring during the year in high school would be tough enough without having to leave this cute little town on the coast of Maine. The little town that seemed to be stuck in the 1980s had started to grow on her.  


Emma gathers her backpack and opens her door. She weaves through the craziness of the first day of school, looking for the main office. Emma meets Mr. Mills, the little secretary to the school principal Mrs. King. He gives Emma her schedule and a map to the small school. As she leaves the larger office, she hears fake sniffling inside the smaller principal’s office. Emma pauses in front of the door, leaning towards the sounds of the overly fake crying.  


“It’ll be okay, Regina,” an older female voice says. “David isn’t going anywhere. I’m sure you and Kathryn are smart enough to ruin dear little Mary Margaret.” The voice turns bitter as she mentions the name and Emma leans closer to the door.  


Suddenly, Mr. Mills is clearing his throat pointedly and Emma blushes and moves past the door and out the office to her first class.  


As she enters her first class, history, everyone is already in their seats and talking animatedly to each other. The teacher is nowhere to be seen, so Emma moves to the back of the class, hoping to avoid attention. The bell rings and a man about forty years old limps into the class, leaning heavily on a gold-headed cane. Everyone stops talking and silence falls over the room instantly. Emma makes a note in her planner. This guy is to be taken seriously. There won’t be any late assignments accepted or tears comforted by this teacher. He glares at the few cheerleaders in his class who are still talking and they shut up quickly. He sits amid the silence and takes his time pulling the class attendance list out of his leather briefcase.  


He calls each name and each student raises their hand and says here. The teacher calls Emma’s name and she sputters out a here while every eye in the whole class turns to her. The teacher looks up from his list for a moment before he continues.  


“If I didn’t call your name, get out of my class.” When no one moves, he continues. “This is Advanced History and I’m Mr. Gold.” As he continues his class and gets a student to hand out the class syllabus. The grading looks very harsh, and Emma makes another note in her planner to especially pay attention to his homework. When his class is over, everyone files out of the classroom. As Emma goes towards where her next class is. Or, where she thinks her next class is. As the next bell rings, Emma realizes she’s next to the art classrooms and not the biology classes. She groans and slumps against the wall. Great, now she’s lost.  


“Uh…do you need help?” a shy female voice says. Emma looks up and sees a petite, raven-haired girl standing in front of her. She’s clearly the artsy type, as she wears a brown beret over her pixie-cut hair. Her small, slightly round face is remarkably pretty and she looks concerned. Her pale skin is offset by a brown, floaty top and skinny jeans finished off by black ballet flats.  


“Yeah, I’m new.” Emma stands up with the help of the girl’s hand. The girl smiles blindingly and says “I’m Mary Margaret King. What’s your name and where’s your next class?”  


Her name rings a bell, but right now, Emma is more interested in finding her next class and getting there before her teacher gets angry. “I’m Emma,” she says, handing her schedule over to the petite girl.  


Mary Margaret gives her directions up three floors and past two different wall murals. As Emma walks towards the stairs, she realizes where she remembers the girl’s name. She was the one the sniffling girl and the principal were talking about ruining. But why?


	2. Snow White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary Margaret 'accidentally' meets up with David Nolan and she can practically see the connection the two of them share. But, David's girlfriend Kathryn doesn't approve and she lets Mary Margaret know in no uncertain terms.

As Mary Margaret checks out one of the old-fashioned cameras from the art room to go take close ups of the blue birds outside the window, she decides to go the longer way past the football field. It has nothing to do with the fact that David’s gym class is happening during this period. 

She passes the field, trying very hard to not glance at David in his short gym shorts and t-shirt. That same t-shirt that hugs his pecs and arm muscles so perfectly. She walks to the tree next to the window of her first floor art class and finds the preening bluebirds. She takes several shots before they all turn their attention to the human taking pictures of them. Mary Margaret stops taking shots and smiles at the small birds. She remarks again that animals are amazing. They don’t judge her for her massive crush on the high school football star. They don’t care about her monstrous stepfamily, or her sad past. 

“You okay, Mary Margaret?” and her heart jumps into her throat. She turns around slowly and sees the very person she had been simultaneously avoiding and trying to see at the same time. 

“Hey, David,” she says, a little breathlessly. Damn it, he looks so amazing in his gym outfit and she has to lock her joints to keep herself from running her fingers over the impeccable body that is just inches from her. 

He looks at her strangely as she gets lost in the blue of his eyes for more than a few seconds before she remembers he had asked her a question. “I’m fine. I was just taking some pictures of those bluebirds.” 

A blinding smile claims his lips- those gorgeous lips- and Mary Margaret’s heart thumps painfully a few times. His eyes sparkle and he asks “Bluebirds? Why?” The question doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of her, like some people she knows would, and so she answers. 

“Birds are remarkably loyal creatures. If you love them, they will always find you. But they also make great paintings.” She opens up the gallery on the camera and begins to flip through the pictures, showing him each one and explaining why each one was going to make such a great painting for her sophomore year collection. She flips to a picture of two bluebirds holding their beaks together lovingly while the light comes in at just the right angle to create a gorgeous light-dappled background. 

“Wow,” David says, his voice suddenly blowing across Mary Margaret’s ear. “That’s beautiful.” Mary Margaret turns so she can agree with him, a smile on her face that falls when she realizes how close they really got in the last ten minutes. His gorgeous face is just centimeters from hers. If she wanted, she could reach up on her toes and kiss him right now. “Yeah,” she whispers, her mind a jumble as she starts to rise up on her toes every-so-slightly. He is so amazing and his smile is making her weak in the knees and she should stop right? 

“David!” a loud female voice that is entirely too close shocks Mary Margaret out of her reverie. Kathryn Crysos is jogging towards where Mary Margaret is moving cautiously away from David in an attempt to clear her mind. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, you just disappeared during the run and- oh, hi Mary Margaret.” Kathryn’s voice goes from happy and bouncy to icy in the split second it takes her to see that Mary Margaret is there too. Her ridiculously tiny gym uniform hugs her perfect cheerleader body and shows her amazingly long legs. Mary Margaret feels a twinge of jealousy. And not just for her beautiful body and amazing social life she thinks as David strides over to her and Kathryn kisses him full on the mouth. 

“Hey, David we should get back to gym class before Grumpy notices that you’ve left.” Grumpy is the nickname everyone calls the primary gym teacher and football coach. His real name is Leroy Grump, but his perpetually bad temper lends to his nickname and Mary Margaret was sure that Kathryn didn’t care to know in any case. David nods and heads back to the field, and for a moment Mary Margaret is hopeful Kathryn will follow after him and no merciless bullying will occur, but then Kathryn bends down a few paces away from Mary Margaret on the pretense of tying her shoe and Mary Margaret’s hopes are dashed. Kathryn straightens up and cocks her head at Mary Margaret in mock examination. Mary Margaret starts to feel uncomfortable and turns to leave. 

“Wait M&M, I have something to say and unless you want Regina to find out about you fawning over my boyfriend, you’re going to stand there and listen,” Kathryn told her. Mary Margaret turned, her face a mixture of fear and mimicked confusion. “Yeah,” Kathryn laughs, an evil smile pulling at her perfect bow-lips “who are we kidding, I’m going to tell Regina anyway.” 

Kathryn unfolds her arms and walks a few paces towards the much smaller sophomore. “Now get this into your stupid little head, Mary Margaret. David is mine. He is dating me and the one reason he even knows you is because of your mother’s death.” 

Tears sting in Mary Margaret’s eyes, but Kathryn’s words just keep coming. 

“Let me tell you how this plays out. David and I are going to keep dating. We’re going to graduate together and go to the same college and then we’ll graduate together again. When he gets a job we’re going to get married and I’m going to have his five beautiful blond children.” 

“And you?” she snorts in one laugh. “You are going to end up a single art teacher in the same dead-end job for the rest of her life. Everyone knows how this plays out, Mary Margaret. You’re the only one who seems to not be with the program. He is going to end up with me.” 

Kathryn leans back, not unlike a painter admiring her work. She nods at Mary Margaret’s flowing tears and crushed face. She turns, her blond hair swiping the small sophomore in the face before she saunters off to join her gym class again. Mary Margaret runs inside the building and sprints inside the closest bathroom, settling herself inside for a good cry. 

After her crying session in the girl’s bathroom on the first floor, Mary Margaret moves through her schedule in a daze. She keeps her head down and takes notes through each class studiously, but her mind is nowhere near the classroom. Lacey picks up on Mary Margaret’s mood pretty quickly and texts her while their teacher drones on and on about the syllabus. 

Lacey: Regina again? 

Me: No. Kathryn this time. Caught me making goo-goo eyes at her man and flipped out. Hurtful words. 

Lacey: Aw babe, I’m so sorry. 

Lacey: What about lunch out today? 

Mary Margaret stares at her phone in disbelief for a second. Lacey French is a notorious bookworm. Her friends are lucky if they see her at all during lunch periods. Why isn’t she running to the library already? Mary Margaret shrugs and types back. 

Me: Thx doll. Would love to pry you away from your books for long enough. 

Mary Margaret reasons that if she wants to tell her, she will. Lacey is not one to hide something important, so Mary Margaret will stay quiet till Lacey brings it up. Mary Margaret suddenly has a wonderful idea. 

Me: Can we bring that new girl Emma? She seems nice and a little overwhelmed. Lacey: You find her you can invite her. 

Mary Margaret suddenly makes it her mission to find Emma Swan and invite her out to lunch. Her day perks up a little at the thought of lunch out with her friends and away from Regina and her minions.


	3. Belle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacey French goes to her first history class of the year, and she slips into daydreams about the teacher, Mr. Gold too easily. She wants him to be as ruffled around her as she is around him. But then, a boy comes in and pushes every button Gold has. Who is he and how can she do that?

Lacey walks down the hall, her face shining with anticipation. Her next period is History. She loves History class. And yet she’s practically failing. Lacey shakes her head and tries to convince herself it’s because Mr. Gold’s teaching style doesn’t help her learn, but she knows she would be lying. It has less to do with Mr. Gold’s teaching style and more to do with the man himself. 

Lacey isn’t a stupid girl. She has always loved reading and learning new things. Her quick wit and vast knowledge makes her first in her class. Coming into freshman year, she had been very confidant in her abilities in history and so had opted to take the advanced sophomore course. She had been the perfect student until Mr. Gold had limped his way into her heart. 

He was amazing. He was nothing like her boyfriend, George Gaston, a boy who wasn’t much beyond his rippling pecs and muscled arms. Mr. Gold was complex, she could tell. There was pain behind his deep brown eyes. Most people didn’t look beyond his harsh demeanor, but sometimes she could glimpse the hurting man. 

She failed her first semester of Advanced History and had come back this year to take the lower level of history. 

The worst part is that Lacey was a good girl. She loved being the smartest girl in the class and he was distracting her to the point of pulling down her grade-point average. He made her want to be the kind of girl who deliberately flirted with her teachers to get good grades. She wanted to make him be the one fumbling for an answer for once. 

She comes into the classroom and sits down in the seat closest to his desk. She arranges her short skirt on her legs to put them on the best display possible. She fluffs her hair one last time and opens the neckline of her button-up shirt the tiniest bit before the bell rings. 

Mr. Gold enters the room as confidant as he always was, his cane hitting the floor as he moves to his deck. His name is written on the blackboard behind him in the same neat, loopy handwriting that she remembers from last year. He calls the names on his list, his voice not even faltering when he glances up at Lacey. He stops at one name several after hers, glances around the classroom and then seems to shrug the tiniest bit. He moves on to the next name on the list. 

When he is done with role, he moves on to the syllabus, and Lacey gets lost in the rise and fall of his voice. She slips into the fantasy world that is reserved for her most private moments in the dead of night when her father is long since asleep. Lacey let her mind wander into a fantasy where Mr. Gold was wooing her with his words and she was letting him. 

She could almost feel him kissing her lips and setting her body on fire with his touch. She heard him whispering words of love against her flushed skin and she could just imagine him taking her hard and fast against his immaculate desk. She wanted to run her fingers through his long, slightly curled hair and kiss him and crumple his perfect suit under her fingers. She wanted to make him mess up his perfectly organized classroom. She wanted to wreck him. 

The sharp sound of a door closing wakes Lacey from her daydreams. A boy, and a rather handsome one at that, has just entered the class. He was late? No one comes late to Mr. Gold’s class, even if your life depended on it. The boy, tall and lanky, stubbled and sure is standing in the middle of the classroom floor, no note clutched in his hand in offering, hoping to appease the beast within the teacher. In fact, his face is split into a condescending smirk. 

“Alright, crocodile? It’s been a while mate,” the newcomer lilts in an Irish accent. With his accent and smoldering good looks, Lacey is sure half the school’s population of girls will be pursuing him before the day’s end. Lacey doesn’t remember him from any of her classes. Is he a transfer like the new girl Emma? 

“Get out.” Mr. Gold’s deeply hateful voice spits. Lacey turns to her teacher in surprise. She had never heard so much contempt in another person’s voice, let alone his. And to a student who was late on the first day? He was probably lost or something. His term for Mr. Gold could hardly be called endearment, as it seemed more hate-filled than that. That still didn’t explain why Mr. Gold was reacting the way he was. 

As Lacey watches the way these two males stare each other down across the room, it clicked. They knew each other from long ago and both hated the other with a burning passion. 

“Why, mate?” the boy answered, a laugh in his voice. “I just got here.” 

“Get out, you filthy bastard!” Mr. Gold yelled, his face turning red with rage. “You get the fuck out of my classroom and don’t you dare come back. Ever!” On the last syllable, the history teacher pushes a stack of papers off his desk. 

Lacey is now staring in awe at Mr. Gold. She has never seen her teacher so human. Usually Mr. Gold keeps a high level of professionalism between him and the other people around him. She has never seen him angry and she has never seen him purposely make a mess in his own classroom before. 

The boy glances around the room and smiles at a few friends of his before his eyes settle of Lacey. He smirks and winks, as if he can tell with absolute certainty that she is crushing on her teacher. He walks out of the class flippantly and Lacey’s eyes follow him. 

She decides right then to find out who this guy is and get him to teach her how to get Mr. Gold to be that way with her.


	4. Captain Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian Jones leaves Mr. Gold's classroom, outwardly confident, but inwardly shaken with reminders of his past. A chance meeting with a blond-haired beauty shakes him out of this downward spiral. Why is she so intriguing?

Killian walks down the hall of the school, exuding confidence as he strolls towards the commons. Inside, however he is close to a breaking point. On his first day back to school for over a year he has already been kicked out of the one class he really needs to graduate. If he doesn’t pass this year, he’s going to have to go to summer school and that doesn’t sit well with him. Besides this, the encounter with Mr. Gold opens the wound that usually just throbs to a chasm aching and twitching in pain. He really needs to find Mary Margaret. She is the one girl who Killian can talk to about his past who won’t judge him for his mistakes. 

Lost in thought, Killian doesn’t even notice the girl until he runs into her headlong. They connect shoulders and her books and papers scatter all across the floor. She exclaims in pain and exasperation, bending down to pick up her things. Being a gentleman, Killian bends down beside the blonde to help. 

“Really? On the first day?” he hears her mutter, anger peppering her voice. 

“I’m sorry lass, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he answers, handing her a textbook on advanced calculus. He wonders as he hands it to her if she’s really that good in math because he could use some help in the area of math as well. 

Her blonde head tilts up, and suddenly, Killian is absolutely lost in her eyes. Her gorgeous green eyes that shine like emeralds in the sun. His clothes suddenly seem way too hot and constricting and he can’t seem to construct a sentence. Killian feels his body lean towards her, not exactly sure what’s pushing him to her. 

Killian suddenly falls down against the floor, hands flung out in front to catch him. He sees the girl’s long legs in front of his face and realized that she had stood up. He looks up to her and sees that she isn’t even flustered; she’s just picking up the last of her books. She glances at him, and says “Pay attention to where you walk next time,” and then turns on her heel and walks towards the stairway. 

Still reeling from her intense eyes, Killian lurches to his feet and almost runs after her. When he catches up to her, she looks at him with confusion clear in her face. “You sure you don’t want me to carry your books?” he asks, pulling out his usual tricks easily. She would blush at his smirk and nod, letting him walk her to class and then would push him away in an attempt to convince everyone of her virginity till she would give up and have one night of passion with him. It was always just one night, even if they were willing for more. His remembered past with **her** stops him. 

“I can handle them myself, thanks,” she says, and he detects a note of anger in her voice. She is rejecting him. She wasn’t blushing and she didn’t even seem to be affected by his dashing looks and bad-boy demeanor. 

In most cases when one so fragile as Killian Jones is rejected it leads to a spiral of pain and rash actions, but this doesn’t happen in Killian Jones. He loves a challenge. Because he has cried for so long, the pain of rejection seems to be a pinprick when compared to the pain of love lost. He won’t lose this girl, this one with the intense eyes. 

The girl is walking briskly towards the stairs, keeping her books close to her chest and ignoring Killian as he ran after her. What was he doing? He didn’t chase after girls. They chased after him. 

The girl began to climb the stairs leaving him behind. “I’m Killian,” he shouts after her. She stops for a moment with one foot on the third step and one foot on the fourth, and turns a smile on her lips. 

He expects her to tell him her name and then blush and walk away, hoping for him to run after her. He had learned that was the way girls told him they wanted him to pursue them. 

The girl just smirks, turns her back and climbs the steps without another word. As Killian watches her leave, he decides that he was going to have this girl if it was the last thing he ever did.


	5. Emma Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma calms down after her encounter with a bad boy with piercing blue eyes and gets invited to lunch. At the diner, she gets introduced to the rest of the high school, and makes an enemy.

She climbs further up the stairs, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. Just breathe Emma, she told herself, breathe. Don’t freak out. Just keep him out and it’ll be fine. She realized that she wasn’t even convincing herself. 

Emma tries not to look back at the boy- Killian- and his devilishly handsome face and sharp blue eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her. She knew him, if only in the type of boy he was and he spelled trouble. She was especially on guard remembering her track record with bad boys who had smirks and soulful eyes. 

A pain shot through her chest, making it constrict. Don’t think about it, Emma she told herself. Just get through the day and then you can forget about him. Emma felt the tears sting in her eyes and tried to pull her map out of her pocket, now utterly and completely lost. 

Emma suddenly wishes that the girl who had helped her earlier- Mary Margaret were there again. She had seemed like a nice person and had been kind enough to give directions to a stranger. 

“Oh, Emma!” a familiar voice calls. Emma looks up and sees Mary Margaret. Could she read minds? How had she known that Emma had been wishing for her presence? 

“Mary Margaret,” Emma says, her voice still a little breathless from her encounter. 

“Oh, I’m so glad I found you!” the petite girl squeaks happily. Emma feels her eyebrows rise up. “My friends and I are going out to lunch today and I wanted to invite you to join us.” 

Emma’s eyebrows rise up even further. Was she joking? A lunch with friends was something that had previously never happened to Emma. She’d never had friends before. She grimaces, anticipating giggly girls who wear pink and only want to gossip and braid each other’s hair. 

“Come on, please! It’ll be fun, I promise,” Mary Margaret says, grabbing Emma’s hand and pleading. 

With the look in the raven-haired girl’s eyes, Emma finally gives in. “Okay, fine, I’ll go.” 

“Yes!” Mary Margaret exclaims. “Okay, so meet me in the commons after this period,” and the little sophomore speeds away. 

Emma groans inwardly; she’s still hopelessly lost and she’ll have to find the commons after she finally finds her class. 

When the bell to begin lunch rings, Emma pulls out her map and finds the commons pretty easily. She makes her way past groups of rowdy teens to the center of the first floor common area. 

Mary Margaret is standing in the middle of the floor talking to two very different girls. One is wearing a typical schoolgirl uniform and its every bit as racy as the outfit is usually seen. Her shirt just covers her butt and the white shirt is open to the point where Emma can spot lacy black bra. Her long, brown-red hair is straight and flipped over her shoulder. The other seems like a goth slut at first sight. Her insanely long legs are clothed in ripped jeans and combat boots with spikes on the heel. Her black shirt is tight with rips in the back and advocates for the band Metallica. Her long black hair has defined red streaks running from tip to end. 

Emma walks over, trying not to break into the conversation, but when little Mary Margaret sees her, she squeals with excitement and runs to drag her into the small circle. 

“Guys, this is Emma. She’s new!” Mary Margaret exclaims, almost squeaking in her obvious happiness. The two girls smile widely, obviously used to the petite brunette’s level of excitement. 

The schoolgirl waves, saying “I’m Lacey.” The goth nods and says “I’m Ruby. Nice to meet you.” 

Mary Margaret looks over her shoulder and sighs. “When is August gonna get here, I’m starving!” Evidently, there is one more addition to the little friend group, and Emma hopes that they aren’t too crazy. 

“Ruby! Mary Margaret, there you are. I was looking for you everywhere, you just disappeared.” The whole group of girls turns to the boy running over. Mary Margaret squeals again and grabs his outstretched hand. “Finally, I was wondering if you were bailing on us.” 

The boy smiles, kisses Ruby on the cheek, hugs Lacey and then waits for an introduction about Emma. “Hi, I’m Emma,” she says, extending her hand for a shake, but the boy spontaneously hugs her. His hands are strong and wide, but Emma feels slightly uncomfortable with how close they are to her butt. She squirms a little and he pulls back immediately. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry honey,” he says, obviously picking up on her discomfort “I’m gayer than the Forth of July. I’m August by the way.” Emma isn’t really all that surprised that he’s gay, mostly because she didn’t really think about it, but it makes it only slightly less awkward how close his hands were to grabbing ass. 

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes and whines, “Can we go already? I’ve been starving since last period,” The gathered group nods and follows after Mary Margaret as she jogs down the street to a little diner a few blocks away. Emma peers in and sees that this is evidently the go-to place for students wanting to escape the large school. Groups of rowdy teens sit on every available surface and eat overly greasy food. 

Emma’s group enters the diner and they each weave through the maze of students to a booth in the back of the diner. They sit and begin to peruse the menus laid out while August insists that each thing on the menu doesn’t fit in his no-carb, no-fat diet. Mary Margaret produces a piece of paper and writes down everyone’s orders and just as she leaves to place it, August asks for a BLT. 

When Mary Margaret is gone, Ruby begins asking questions of Emma. Most of them focus on her classes and which teacher she has, while also giving advice about how to play that class and particular teacher. Then, after that topic is exhausted, the three proceed to tell Emma all the school gossip. 

“Over there are the religious nuts,” Lacey says, gesturing to a group of girls with golden cross pendants, while they pray over their food. “The leader of that group is Lady Blue,” August adds, pointing at a girl in the middle of the group who seems to be the one leading the prayer. “Her name isn’t actually Lady Blue, everyone just calls her that cause she’s so stuck-up. Seriously, if you wanted into that clique, you’d have to go through this whole like trial period and stuff. It’s weird,” Ruby says, her nose wrinkling. 

August leans in conspiratorially, and says “Rumor has it that Lady Blue does this like church retreat with the group where they go to this cabin in the mountains and makes everyone starve themselves for a weekend.” Lacey scoffs. “I’m sure that’s not true, August, you’re just making things up again.” 

A whoop sounds through the diner, its sound traveling over the shouts of the other students. Emma looks over to see a group of guys laughing loudly and high-fiving each other. “Those are the Merry Men,” says Ruby “and that’s their leader, Robin.” Lacey adds, “He’s the one who decided on the name after his hero Robin Hood. They just kinda hang out from what I can tell.” 

“Except that they all drive motorcycles. I heard that they’re mavericks.” August is obviously the gossip of the group, Emma realizes. “Like they do stupid shit just for fun. I heard that Robin and his buddy John over there,” he points to a rather chubby little bearded boy next to Robin, “gave the whole group tattoos of arrows on their shoulders last summer.” 

The door opens and the diner suddenly gets very soft. Emma looks over and sees a group of three cheerleaders hanging on the arms of three big, hulking letterman jacket-clad boys. “Those three girls run the school,” whispers August. “The middle one is Regina,” he adds, pointing to the black-haired girl who is all angles and scowls. “The reason she has so much power is because her mom, Mrs. King, is the principal,” says Ruby, bitterness coating her voice. “Her man is none other than the gorgeous Graham Humbert,” August says, voice wistful referring to the handsome boy on Regina’s arm. He doesn’t seem to like the attention that comes from being the Queen Bee’s arm candy. 

“The smaller blonde one is Ashley Boyd and that’s her boyfriend Sean Herman,” Lacey says, pointing to the couple on Regina’s left. The girl is small and petite and the boy next to her is small for a footballer. Their matching blonde hair and large natural smiles make Emma feel a twinge of jealousy. She quickly pushes the feeling aside. 

“The taller blonde is Kathryn Crysos with her boyfriend David Nolan,” as Ruby refers to the final couple of the three. “Don’t tell anyone, but Mary Margaret has the hugest crush on David.” Emma glances at the boy in question and sees the attraction. He is quite handsome with his chiseled features and charming smile, but Emma has always been the girl to like bad-boys and David seems too vanilla for her taste. 

Speaking of bad boys, the one who ran into her earlier and made her drop her books is moving in the door behind the popular kids with large troupe in tow. Ruby seems to notice Emma’s stare and says, “Don’t even think about it, Emma. The handsome one with the dark hair is Killian and he’s the biggest player in the school. There’s practically isn’t a girl in the school he hasn’t fucked.” Emma senses the bitterness seeping back into Ruby’s voice and made the assumption that he had played her. 

“Well, anyway…”August starts, “Killian Jones is in the theater nerds group.” 

Emma watches as he goes through the diner, greeting every student followed by three handsome boys and a petite blonde girl. She feels a familiar stab of jealousy as Killian rests his arm across her waist. “That’s Walsh, Victor and Dicken.” August says, pointing to each boy in turn and then points to the girl that Emma is glaring at. “That’s Think.” 

“Tink?” asks Emma, momentarily distracted from Killian’s arms around one of the art girls. “That’s her name? Seriously?” 

“Well, her real name is Lucy or something. But every year since she could pick her own clothes, she’s dressed as Tinker Bell like every day, so everyone just calls her Tink now,” explains Lacey and Emma can begin to see the kind nature underneath the slutty exterior. 

“Oh no,” Ruby says, her voice so low that Emma barely hears her. She glances to her and follows her gaze. She looks over and sees the cheer squad is obviously attacking Mary Margaret from where she stands at the diner’s counter. She looks close to tears. Emma’s blood suddenly boils. Mary Margaret is possibly the nicest person she has met today, and the thought of someone hurting her makes her angrier than she has been in a long time. 

Before she knows any different, Emma is standing and practically running to Mary Margaret’s side. As she nears the three cheerleaders and her new friend, she catches the last snippet of their conversation. 

“How many times does she have to tell you, little girl?” Regina is sneering, “David is off limits. Now, smart girls would just give up and move on to a different guy. He’s taken and there is nothing you can do about it. So, I suggest-“ 

But just then Emma intercedes with a stern “Is there a problem here?” She’s quite proud of how authoritative her voice sounds. She sounds like a teacher or a police officer. Regina stops short to glare at her interruption. 

“We’re just taking care of this little whore, so go sit down before I ruin you too.” It’s obvious to Emma that Regina has never been stood up to before. Well get ready honey, Emma thinks, cause your parade is about to get pissed on. 

“I would love to see you try, cheerleader,” Emma says, malice practically dripping from her voice on the word cheerleader. “But in the meantime, don’t bother her, m’kay?” 

Regina looks shocked and Emma notices in a different corner of her brain that at this moment, you could hear a pin dropping in the diner. It seems everyone is waiting to see how this unfolds. 

“Excuse me,” Regina says, turning to face Emma fully “but who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?” 

Emma laughs. “Oh, I’m no one special, but know this. If you hurt my friends, I will make you pay.” 

Regina stops for a moment and steps up to Emma. Regina is just the slightest bit taller than Emma and though she feels the heat of the cheerleader’s glare on her face, she doesn’t back down. “Bring it on, bitch,” Regina just barely whispers, a piece of her spit hitting Emma’s nose. 

Before even thinking, Emma’s hand shoots out and slaps Regina’s cheek. The reaction is immediate. The diner erupts into shouts urging Regina to fight back, and Emma shifts her stance to defensive, raising her fists so she is ready for Regina’s returning offense. But Regina simply runs out of the diner clutching her cheek, tears running down her face. 

Emma watches as girl leaves the diner and shakes her head. “Pathetic,” she says, perhaps a little too loud. The diner settles back into the din when it’s clear nothing else interesting is going to happen. The rest of the jocks go inconspicuously out of the door, but not before Kathryn places a drawn-out kiss onto her boyfriend David’s lips. Emma reacts in disgust; she can almost feel the desperate and possessive fumes rolling off of Kathryn. She shakes her head again as they too leave the diner. 

As she helps Mary Margaret back to their booth after waving off her thanks, she catches the awestruck gaze of Killian.


	6. Captain Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian watches the interaction at the diner, becoming even more infatuated and interested in the new girl with the blond hair and intense green eyes. He resolves to find out her name, and somehow makes an ally with the strangest girl he's met.

Killian can’t remember anyone ever standing up to Regina. He stares in awe at the girl and her small group of friends before they leave the diner. There’s Mary Margaret, who the girl rushed to defend, a tall girl that looks slightly familiar, the shorter girl from his history class and August. The blond beauty avoids the eyes of everyone in the diner while she eats, keeping her head low. Killian thinks back to the fight for a moment, remembering her fiery eyes and prepared stance. She knew what she was doing when it came to defending herself, and this fact makes her more beautiful. A challenge and a mystery wrapped in a gorgeous body and stunning eyes. 

“Really, Killian?” Tink asks and he glances at his friend to see her disapproving face. “Already, Kil? On the first day? Come on, give up on the chase for once and just enjoy senior year.” 

Killian breaks his gaze to the girl to shake his head at Tink. “And how do you propose I enjoy senior year without a little ass thrown in?” Tink rolls her eyes. “This is my last year as a high school student. I’m gonna have fun and seduce that little beauty over there if it kills me.” 

Tink shakes her head. “Man, now I’m just itching to see you get punched for your troubles.” 

Killian smiles at his life-long friend and goes back to his scrutiny of the girl he has decided will kick off his year. There’s no fun in an easy kill and he can’t wait to have this girl gasping beneath him, her eyes heavy and dark with lust. It’ll be just the thing to cement his reputation. 

Killian watches as the girl and her friends finish their food and leave the diner. He follows with Tink, Walsh, Dicken and Victor, keeping his head low and trying to come up with a way to spend more time with the girl. First thing he should probably do is figure out her name though. He can’t very well call her girl while she comes undone around his cock, can he? 

During his afternoon classes, he asks everyone he knows about the girl who had a fight with Regina, but no one knows her name. Everyone knows who he’s talking about, due to the school’s rumor mill. As he asks about her name, he hears about how she kicked Regina in the stomach and called her a slut. He puts the rumors to bed as well as he can, but no seems to know who she really is. 

As he enters his last period-Physics II- his luck finally changes. He spots the girl from his history class and his girl’s friend sitting in the back row, texting away on her phone. He sits down next to her and she looks up with surprise in her eyes. She is a beautiful creature, he realizes. Her burgundy hair is loose around her shoulders and her blue eyes are quite piercing. Maybe after he gets his girl, he’ll come for her. 

“Hello there, love,” he says, turning on the charm. One eyebrow on her fair face rises and her very blue eyes regard him. 

“You’re the one who got Mr. Gold so angry right?” she asks, leaning into his arm conspiratorially. He nods, really wishing he could think of a way to phrase his request without sounding like a creepy old man. 

“Will you teach how to do that?” she asks first, a flush coloring her cheeks. He looks at the girl in surprise. “Do what, love?” 

She bites her lip and the blush darkens. “Make him lose the poker up his ass.” 

The bell rings and the teacher begins the class by talking about expectations and so on. Killian tunes him out. He turns his attention back to the girl at his side. 

“What do you want?” he whispers lightly to her. The blush returns to her cheeks and he notes the lovely color. He still has that effect on most girls, just not his mystery girl. 

“I don’t want to be a good girl anymore. I’ve always been the girl-next-door kind who always listens to her dad and never does anything bad. I want to ruffle his feathers.” 

Killian was still confused. “I don’t understand, love.” 

The girls sighs, clearly annoyed. “I want him to lose his strict set of morals and…”she pauses with a glance at Killian’s baffled face. “I want him to fuck me.” 

Killian nearly falls over in his seat. He had not seen that coming. Looking at her, he sees a little girl trying desperately to look grown up. She is so beautiful that she could get any guy she wanted to, and yet she’s decided on the old, limping history teacher. 

“To prove a point you know,” she says quickly. “That I’m no one’s little girl anymore.” 

“So,” Killian starts “you want me to advise you on how to seduce a man? Why not just sleep with me yourself, love?” His charm slips a few notches and he can almost feel his hurt flash through. It is so painfully ironic that he is being asked for advice on how to seduce this man, when it was only a year after he had seduced his wife. 

“You wouldn’t make enough of a point,” she says dismissively. “No offense.” 

Killian had the feeling that this little innocent girl had indeed wanted to offend him, perhaps to goad him to agree. She was mistaken, but Killian reminds himself that she is friends with the blonde girl. 

“I’ll help you,” he starts, “but I want something in return.” She frowns and reaches to her shirtfront, covering the deep slit with her fingers. Killian laughs. “Not that, sweetheart.” She visibly relaxed and Killian swallowed. 

“I want advice about a girl. Your friend,” he says. 

She frowns. “Who? Mary Margaret?” Killian shakes his head. “No, the blonde one,” 

She nods, and she smiles knowingly. “She is very beautiful isn’t she?” 

“Gorgeous,” Killian agrees. “I just want to, you know, start the year off on a good note.” 

“So, you want to seduce her, right?” she asks. 

He nods, wondering if she was going to agree to his stipulation. She pauses for a longest time and then holds out her hand. 

“Give me your phone, Jones,” she says wiggling her fingers. Killian pulls out his iPhone and places it in her palm. She quickly bypasses his code and opens his contacts. She types for a minute and then hands it back to him. He sees a new contact with the name Lacey French. 

“Her name’s Lacey?” he asks, not believing his own luck to have lucked into this beauty. She laughs. “Nope, that’s me,” she says. “You’re gonna have to get her number all by yourself. And you aren’t getting any more information till I get some advice.” 

Killian sighs. “Fine, little girl. Spend more time with him. Get some extra help after school and…I guess…uh…” he trails off. Killian had never understood why Milah had married the man in the first place and had always believed it was for his money. Moreover, he had always thought that the reason Mr. Gold had been so upset with their affair was because Killian had stolen something that was his. So, trying to tell another girl, how to get Mr. Gold to do what she wanted was proving more difficult than he thought. 

Lacey was looking at him in confusion, waiting for him to finish his thought. He starts again. “And get his attention.” 

Lacey grimaces but doesn’t argue. She thinks silently for a moment and then decides something. “She just got a month of after school detention for fighting. If you want to spend some more time with her, you should probably get into that detention room.” 

She picks up her books and heads to the door and Killian realizes that the final bell just rang. She turns back as she reaches the doorway and says “And her name is Emma Swan.”


	7. Emma Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma goes to detention, expecting to be bored out of her mind until time is up. Then, a bad boy who is way too interested in Emma enters, throwing off her balance.

Emma was resigned. She had gone to the principal Mrs. King after the diner incident and was told, without even being asked what had happened, that she had a month’s detention for fighting. Emma knew she had played with fire by standing up to the principal’s daughter. She didn’t even bother to point out that because the fight had happened off school grounds and so according to the rules of the school, she couldn’t be punished. 

She was sitting in the library of her new school just hoping that the nuns she now lived with would overlook her lateness when she finally did get back. She stares ahead while the rest of the people subjected to afterschool detention sit down. There are all kinds of people. A group of fist-pounding guys come in and Emma sees Robin among them. He and his Merry Men take seats all near each other. After a few more arrivals that Emma doesn’t know, a large suited man comes in and sits at a stool at the front of the group of tables. 

“Nope, I don’t think so, Robin,” the large man gestures to the loose group of Merry Men. “Split up, you guys. John, come on get up and sit over here next to…” he pauses and Emma realizes that he’s looking at her. She opens her mouth to tell him her name, but someone with a familiar voice beat her to it. 

“Actually Mr. Nottingham, this seat’s taken,” and bad boy Killian Jones sits down next to Emma. She looks at him is confusion, willing her heart to stop beating so quickly and tells herself to calm down Emma. Just ignore him and he’ll lose interest. 

As Mr. Nottingham disperses the Merry Men around the tables, Emma stares at her books and waits for the actual detention to begin. She can’t wait for the complete silence to start so she spend her hour thinking about how much she hates afterschool detention. Usually, you can’t sleep or read a book or anything actually interesting, but you have to sit in utter silence and ‘think about what you’ve done.’ The adults never seem to realize how much it’s not working. 

“You know, most men would take your silence as off-putting, but not me.” Emma looks over at Jones’ cocky smirk. He leans forward, closing the distance between their faces. “I love a challenge,” he whispers against her skin. 

“A challenge?” Emma can never stop herself from rising to the bait, that’s usually how she gets herself in trouble. “As in, you’re not going to quit bothering me till you get what you want?” 

“Exactly, love,” Jones shrugs and leans back. “And I usually get what I want.” 

“And what is it you want, sailor?” Emma says, leaning in to him and fluttering her eyelashes, trying to get a rise out of him. She hears his breath catch. 

“You me, back closet now,” he whispers and Emma laughs. “Not a chance, big guy,” she says leaning back against her chair. Jones seems to consider something. “Then tell me your name love,” he says, the smirk returning to his face. 

Emma stops. “Are you going to leave me alone if I tell you my name?” Jones shakes his head. “Not a chance, love.” Emma smiles at him and says, “Then why would I tell you my name, sailor?” Jones laughs and leans in again. “Maybe because I was just being a gentleman-“ Emma laughs once at that and receives a look from Mr. Nottingham, who is still rearranging the Merry Men. “Since when are you a gentleman, Jones?” 

He smirks. “I’m asking a lovely lady her name, Emma Swan. And I’m always a gentleman.” Emma gasps. “Why did you ask for my name if you already know it? And how did you know my name?” 

“Every man has his reasons, love. And in this school, nothing is secret.” 

Emma opens her mouth to respond but Mr. Nottingham had finally finished rearranging the Merry Men around the room. “Okay, maggots,” he says “you have one hour. Each table is going to make a presentation about a different country.” Emma starts and turns to Jones “We aren’t going to be sitting in utter and complete silence?” He smirks. “Nope. This is what we do for detention.” 

“Robin, you and Tom can do Luxembourg. Jones and whatever your name is can do Ireland.” Mr. Nottingham continues but Jones is already walking over to the shelves and Emma hurries to catch up. 

As Jones hands her book after book on Ireland, Emma tries to keep her mouth shut, but fails after the third novel is handed to her. “So, what did you do to get detention for on the first day of school?” 

He smirks. “Same as you, love. Fighting.” He moves further down the stacks and Emma follows him, balancing the many books precariously in her hands. “Who did you get into a fight with?” She isn’t surprised that he knew why she got detention. He had been there when it happened and if he had found out her name from the rumor mill, then that she had been given detention was not that hard to believe. 

He laughs lowly, and the way he does that makes something stir deep in her stomach. Oh no. Jones hands more books to Emma and leans forward till their faces are inches apart. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.” Emma looks up into his amazing blue eyes and her breath catches. For almost a full minute, she fights the urge to step in and kiss him. Finally, she gathers the will to look away and she sees Jones’ foot moving back, which would have him trip over a fallen book. 

Emma gasps and lets her arms fall, their books scattering all over the floor, to grab Jones’ arms and tug him forward. He falls into Emma, easily wrapping his arms around her and standing up to stare in her eyes. “It’s about time, love,” he whispers huskily into her ear. His voice makes her shiver, but Emma shoves away from him and points down to the book behind his foot. “You were going to trip.” 

Emma bends down quickly and picks up the books that fell from her arms. She stands up, glances at Jones’ handsome face and stalks back to their table. He follows her, his cocky remarks silent for a few seconds before he starts teasing her in a very accurate and sexy Irish accent. She fends off his advances at every turn and soon enough the hour is over and they hand in their research to Mr. Nottingham. 

Emma drives back to the orphanage and is greeted at the door by the three munchkins in the home who had taken a shine to her in her week there. There was Henry, a little ten-year-old who reminded Emma of a little foster brother she’d had not that long ago. Then the twins, Ava and Nicholas just followed wherever Henry led. The three tackled Emma, asking her about all the things that happened, and she told them, editing out the fight and Jones. They pull her into the craft room, where they show her the dolls they were carefully sewing from scratch. Emma oohs and ahs at the right spots and helpfully shows the young ones a few new ways to use the needle to make eyes. 

Dinner is called a few hours later and Emma takes the three to wash their hands and helps them each ladle food onto their plates. She bows her head respectively during the grace, but she has never been a religious person. If there was a God, he would punish those who deserved it, she thought wryly He wouldn’t let good people get punished the way they did. 

After dinner, Emma goes to her room and works on her small amount of homework. She organizes her notebook and then gets ready for bed. Because she’s the oldest one in the whole home, she gets her own room and bathroom. Emma feels so alone, pacing the huge open floor of her room and hurries to do something, attempting to keep her head busy. When her mind is idle, she tends to have panic attacks and those never end well. 

At ten o’clock, Emma crawls into her bed and leans over to turn out her light when she hears a knock at her door. “Yes?” she asks, positioning her feet to hit the floor the second Henry or Ava come in with nightmares, but instead the door opens to Sister Astrid. 

Emma sits back in surprise. The only reason a nun is visiting her would be because they were sent by Mother Superior and that means she’s in trouble. “Can I come in Emma?” Sister Astrid asks uncertainty. Emma nods. If she’s in trouble, might as well get it over with. The nun slowly walks in and sits delicately on the end of her bed. 

“Emma, you know that as nuns we cannot condone certain behavior,” Sister Astrid starts. Emma’s mind begins to race. Had they found out about her past? Were they going to ship her away? “For example, fighting,” the nun continues and Emma knows exactly what this is about. Mrs. King had called the home when she had earned her detention and now they were going to ship her off. Way to go Emma. You didn’t even last a month here. Well fine, if they want to ship me off, I’m not going to fight it. 

“Emma?” Sister Astrid asks. “What happened?” Emma crosses her arms. “Mrs. King didn’t tell you?” The nun smiles kindly and Emma is reminded of how much she really likes this place. “Of course she did, but I would rather hear it from you.” 

Emma stops. In all her years, no adult had ever asked her to tell them what had happened. They just told each other and doled out punishment accordingly. 

“I went out to lunch with a couple friends of mine,” Emma starts, hesitating ever-so-slightly on the word ‘friends’ “and Regina and her cheerleader minions were going after Mary Margaret and I stopped them.” As explanations went, it wasn’t her best, but it outlined everything that had happened at the diner. 

Sister Astrid nods and smiles lightly. The kindly nun reaches over to grab Emma’s hands. “Well, I think I speak for the Mother Superior when I tell you to keep fighting for her.” Emma starts dramatically and looks at the little woman sitting on her bed. That was possibly the last thing Emma expected to come out of her mouth. Sister Astrid starts again. “There are those among us who are too weak to stand up for themselves and they need the guidance and example of others to help them become their best selves.” 

“Doesn’t the Bible have specific things to say about ‘turning the other cheek’?” Emma asks. Sister Astrid nods. “Indeed it does, but the Bible was written in a different time and that specific guideline was written for entirely different purposes. I believe that in this case, we can encourage you to get in as much trouble as you can to protect that girl.” She sighs heavily. “She has been through far too much in the past few years to not earn her own guardian angel here on earth.” 

Sister Astrid pats Emma’s hands and stands to walk to the door. She turns back and wishes Emma a good night before closing the door. As Emma lies back and begins to fall asleep, she remarks to herself of what a wonderful and odd town this is.


End file.
